


The Lost Colour

by Anti_Social_Headphones_Kid



Category: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I love the sheep-dude but for the story..., NOT TC/EST AND DON'T FUCKING TOUCH IT IF YOU ARE, Teen for light swearing, evil baron draxum, kinda angst, separated at mutation au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:13:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26583448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anti_Social_Headphones_Kid/pseuds/Anti_Social_Headphones_Kid
Summary: There were four turtles mutated. Three were rescued, and the lab exploded.Splinter mourned the loss of that last turtle, the smallest one, but there was no way it could’ve survived, so he never spoke of it again- after all, what was the point in telling his three remaining sons that they had lost a brother they never got to know?But little did he know that Baron Draxum survived- and along with the alchemist, the fourth turtle lived on.((Separated at Mutation Mikey AU))
Relationships: Donatello & Leonardo & Michelangelo & April O'Neil & Raphael (TMNT), Donatello & Leonardo & Michelangelo & Raphael & Splinter (TMNT)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 78





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're thinking this story looks slightly familiar, that's because I started it waaaaay back when I had been watching the series for under a month...
> 
> Anyways, the story changed quite a bit, and I wanted a fresh start, so yea!!
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!!

Sometimes Splinter cursed the very idea of calendars, of days, of keeping track of time at all.

Just more reminders of time passing, more dates that he was forced to remember, like the day he had proposed to Big Mama, or perhaps the last time he saw his mother...

As much as he tried to ignore the dates as they came and went, they'd still always come, forcing him to remember his past pains. Though admittedly, it wasn't all bad, for instance, the new memories he had been able to make, those were often worth remembering.

But there was one such different day. It wasn't a day that he liked to remember, in fact, it was one of the days he dreaded to come, but if he did forget the date, he probably would never forgive himself.

The anniversary of when he was mutated, when he had lost his humanity, and been suddenly thrust into fatherhood, but it was also the day when he had immediately lost one of his children.

To his sons, though, it was just another normal day- to them, most of these days that haunted him were just normal days.

He could hear Red and Blue talking to each other in the kitchen, and heard a series of clanks every few minutes that served to remind him that Purple was in his lab. 

Ultimately, this should only be a day like any other. So the rat played along with this idea, making his way to the tv room, where he planned to stay, if only to distract himself from what today meant.

13 years. That's how long it had been now.

Splinter shook his mind from these thoughts as he brushed aside the curtain to the room, ignoring the pains in his legs that reminded him he was only getting older along with each minute that came, and shuffled towards his chair, the motion of grabbing the remote and turning the projector on almost as automatic as breathing.

The projector flared on, bringing with it the colourful pictures and plentiful sounds that were created specifically for distraction- even the commercials, which were made to target you into buying products, still went far to create something entertaining. Something distracting.

And distraction was what he needed today, even if there was underlying guilt eating him up inside, even if he would've rather stayed in bed all day and sleep through it, he didn't want his sons to think something was wrong, or even realize that anything was out of the ordinary. 

So that's how his day went, average, like any other, though eventually his eyes glazed over, and his mind tuned all sounds, only tuning back in once or twice when he heard a louder-than-normal crash somewhere within the lair, listening until he was sure no one was hurt before resuming his numb state.

Time would resume at its normal pace the next day, but until then, all he had to do was wait as it progressed at a snail's pace. It reminded him of those long hours when he was forced to meditate with his Grandfather.

It wasn't until almost evening when he was finally considering turning the tv off when Raph came in to say something, though his words seemed to pass right by, his mouth moving but no discernable words coming out. 

"Dad?" Raph asked, his voice a little louder, breaking through the barrier that Splinter's own mind had formed.

Sighing, the rat rubbed his head. "Sorry Red, can you repeat that?" 

"I was just sayin' that We're gonna go hang with April, is there anything you need us to pick up?" Raph repeated, slower this time, his volume a little louder too.

"No... no, you three go enjoy yourselves," he waved off, as Raph stood there a moment longer, staring in what Splinter could've sworn was pity before he nodded and left the room, the rat listening as his footsteps subsided before he shut the tv off, the quiet making way for him to listen as his sons left the lair, their conversation drifting up to him through the echos of the sewer.

"Ok, we can go," he heard the oldest announce.

"Did he ask us to pick him up anything for dinner?" Purple asked. "I'm making the call now, so-"

"No, he didn't mention anything... I think dad's having another one of those days," Raph said cautiously. "It'd probably be better if we just leave him be, besides, April is-"

The rest of their conversation died out as their voices became to faint to hear. His sons were noticing when he was down, he realized with a pang. 

And of course they would- Raph was always watching out for his brothers, Donnie already was pretty emotional, and Leo was too good at reading people not to have noticed anything. 

But that didn't matter anymore- now he was left alone for a while, and he was glad for it.

After waiting a few moments listening to the echoes of their voices until there was nothing but silence to make sure they were gone, he walked to his room, almost unsettled by the quietness of the lair, with nothing but the distant city sounds that were inescapable when you lived under New York, mixing with the gentle hum of Purple's machines.

The quietness seemed unnatural at this point, which is why he usually kept the tv on at all times, to make up for the noise whenever the boys left the lair. But tonight was solemn. The least he could do was keep everything quiet, show respect.

He pushed aside the sliding door to his room, looking beneath his bed, and searching for what he needed, spotting the box pushed near the back, and pulled it out with his tail, standing up and heading out of his room again.

Walking to one of the sewer tunnels that led out from the lair, he hopped inside it, walking along the dreary tunnel as his footsteps echoed through, following the pathway he only walked on once a year with the box clutched in his hands, until he came to a stop in front of a brick wall, and set the box down, only to begin taking apart the wall, which was, in reality, a series of loose bricks, hiding a small room in the back.

He had found it long ago while searching the sewers for a home- this was the place they had stayed for the first few weeks after their mutation, until Splinter had found their current home, leaving this place free to use.

But rather than using it for storage, he soon realized a more important use for this place, although just the sight of it saddened him.

He stepped inside, glad to see that the candle left lit inside was still burning, casting an orange glow around the room.

At first, he was at a loss as to what to put in this room, but over time he had begun to bring small things- several photos of Raph, Donnie, and Leo to hang on the wall, a few small toys and objects that he had meant to give to the others, but found himself instead clinging onto them to bring here instead, and as always, a yellow ribbon- the colour of the lost one's shell.

Lifting the lid of the box he had brought, Splinter took out the small few items that he had collected over the past year, along with a few new photos, taking them and placing them around the room, before finally taking out another yellow ribbon, and stepped up to tie it around the rope he had hung across the ceiling.

Thirteen years.

He didn’t often like to think of the little lost one, but thirteen years was such a long time to have missed out on knowing his own child- and it was tearing him apart every time he realized that gap would only ever get larger.

What kind of person would they have been? How would their family have been different? What sort of things would they have liked, or what would their voice have sounded like?

There were so many questions to be asked, yet he knew that those questions all ended with the same answer. They were all lost beneath the rubble of that cursed lab, along with the turtle who was left there with that as their final resting place.

“I’m sorry, my child,” he whispered, looking up at the string of ribbons.

Sighing, he placed the lid back on the box, and stepped out, and put the bricks back in place, before beginning his walk home, desperate to get back before his sons.

He always told himself that ‘this was the year to tell them,’ but he couldn’t bear to put them through the same suffering of missing someone they would never be able to know. So he kept to himself, assuring that it would be a better time to tell them the next year, although deep down, he doubted that it was true.

Perhaps it would only ever be him that knew why that day was different from the others, the only one who knew what had happened.

Or at least that's what he assumed.

But two others remembered that day, two others that cursed what had happened that day: The Alchemist who had lost his life's work, and the turtle who belonged to Draxum, becoming a mere lone piece for the Baron to use in place of his missing team.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyyyyo- thanks for the support in the last chapter!! I hope you enjoy this one!!

For as long as the turtle could remember, each day's cycle had been the same.

Same tasks, same orders, same training.

That is until the inevitable move to another part of the city, which happened every few months to stay hidden- his Master did desire attention and praise, which he definitely deserved- but doing the right thing meant that there would be people searching for him, trying to stop him at all costs, so the Alchemist took every necessary precaution needed to keep his work protected.

But a few years ago, the Baron had deemed it safe to return to his first base- the best one- and they had been there ever since.

Those first few weeks back had been different, rebuilding the lab, brick by brick, gathering the rarer ingredients that they wouldn't have to worry about loosing in a quick relocation.

The course of rebuilding had taken plenty of work, but he did it. It was his duty, what he lived for, so of course he had done it. And when the days returned to normal, he also resumed his usual missions, though the training only got harder, as it should.

The Baron would often remind him, during these sessions, that he was among the lucky to exist- he was given life, and a real purpose- most Yokai brought into the world were born without knowing their purpose, if they even had one at all, and the humans? They had no purpose to begin with.

And he was grateful to the Baron.

He knew he was only created for one purpose, and that was to serve Draxum, just as the Baron served the greater good. 

_It's for the good of Yokai-kind_ , he reminded himself as he stared down the hallway, listening as the guard came closer, their footsteps unapologetically loud on the wooden floorboards. The Masters of Bararianism had upped their security since last time, but it was still far too weak to be of any challenge.

Reasonably, he should've been out of here by now, and it would've been so much easier that way- but that wasn't the Baron's orders. This was just as much mission as it was training, and he needed to have more hands-on experience with... _this_ part of the job. 

The guard turned the corner, coming into sight. It was too dark to see anything besides their silhouette, but their size wouldn't matter much in the end.

He kept a firm grip on his kusari fundo. Any minute now the guard would notice their sacred Dragon Scale, what he had been sent here for, was gone- it was their most prized possession, of course they would notice- and when they did, there was no way to make it out of there without the alarm being sounded.

All he had to do, was get rid of this one guard- and deal with this the easy way- the way his Master had been training him to do with the humans, and end them on sight. but this was a _Yokai_ , someone he was supposed to protect.

The Yokai was a few steps away from the room now, directly underneath where he was hiding. The scales on the yokai reflected the candlelight along the hallway, their footsteps heavy and confrontational, but unsuspecting. The strong ones were always unsuspecting, making them easy to take down.

Their strength made them stupid.

They walked past his hiding place, barely casting a gaze anywhere else but forward. No one would ever even know what had happened, least of all the Yokai themself- it would be quick, painless, with mercy... 

No one will know what happened.

Except him.

Silently, the turtle landed behind the still-clueless Yokai.

Taking a deep breath, he raised his weapon, knowing there would only be seconds before the guard would notice the missing Dragon Scale. It had to be now.

Before he could think any further, his body reacted on its own, dropping his hand holding his weapon, instead delivering a quick kick to the Yokai's head and catching the limp body before it could drop to the ground, unconscious.

Sighing to himself, he threw the body over his shoulder, lugging it to where he knew an empty bedroom was- he'd been there before. He set the Yokai in the bed, ignoring the guilt that was already eating him up from the knowledge that he disobeyed his Master.

But no one would know what happened that night, only him. And it wasn't as if Draxum would notice if another guard lived- _or if all of them lived_ \- and he _hadn't_ noticed, so it was fine.

He knew that his Master only had his training in mind whenever he asked him to do something like this, but he wouldn't fail him in the times it was necessary, so why bother doing it now when these Yokai could potentially be useful?

Still, as he stared at the still-breathing Yokai, he wondered who the first exception would be.

It would be soon, most likely. He couldn't keep it up forever, but as long as it was his Master asking it, he would be assured that it was for the right reasons... just perhaps this guard, in particular, might become of some use defending Yokai-kind when the time came?

At least that's what he hoped, as he slunk back into the shadows, with the Dragon Scale carefully placed in his satchel, grateful that the difficult part was over with, only leaving him to exit without being noticed- which was almost disappointingly easy.

It was a bit trickier when it came to the more populated streets since neither day nor night came to the hidden city, and while a few pathetic Yokai had submitted to the schedules that the humans used, which was apparently based on what the sky looked like, rather than when a new calendar day began, a good amount of the Yokai still treated what was considered 'day' and 'night' as irrelevant, sticking to the pure schedules that they used throughout the city.

But it didn't matter either way- he had been used to these crowds for a long time, twisting around the quieter streets and staying among the rooftops and the shadows. There were two negatives about this route, though, the first being the windows he would need to pass every so often, the extra measures that he was forced to take to remain hidden were a pain, though they werethe only glimpses he ever caught of his own reflection, which was nothing but a black blur of a cloaked figure.

The second thing he detested about this route was the mural of the famous 'Hero' he was forced to look at each time. 

Lou Jitsu.

His blood boiled at even the thought of that wicked human.

Stopping above the painting, he stared down at it, the colourful depiction of the man and the enemies he defeated causing him to clench his fists as he thought about the last victims the human had claimed- the ones that the mural hadn't included- the three other subjects.

It was only by luck that he himself had been spared from this human's wrath, though it still cost him the perfection that Draxum had wanted, with the experiment never being completed, leaving him weaker than planned... but that was nothing compared to leaving him incomplete, without the rest of his team.

He knew he should be moving, but his feet seemed to be glued to the ground as the realization that had been biting at the back of his mind for most of the day finally became clear- it was today. Today had been the day the other subjects had been ruthlessly taken from him, and more importantly, from Draxum.

If only it had never happened, then the Baron's efforts to save the Yokai would've been realized, and he wouldn't have had to spend all these years trying to create something else, something more to make up for this loss.

But looking to the past was pointless, and the only thing that mattered now was furthering his Master's work, which meant finishing this mission on time, something he was already failing at.

With one last look at the mural, he hopped over to the next roof, disappearing among the chimneys and shadows, until finally, he came to the long twisty road that lead to the lab, only to immediately realize something was off.

He sprinted down the pathway, hoping the disaster was only a trick of his eyes, only to stop short in defeat, staring at the lab as he gripped the satchel tighter, the flames flickering in his eyes as the smoke wafted through the air, his mask doing little to keep the scent from burning his lungs as an immense heat pounded at him.

His master had been found.

Quickly, he ripped off his cloak in preparation to go in when his shoulder was gripped, the fingers digging into his skin unmistakably belonging to his master.

"You were late," the Baron stated bitterly, releasing his grip as the turtle kneeled before him.

"Well, the Masters of Barbarism _are_ known for their tight security," Huginn stated.

"And you also need to add the time it takes to dispose of the body," Muninn added in.

"Enough from you two. Subject, We're moving again," Draxum sighed, stepping past him and staring at the flames that were still eating up whatever flammable materials left, though they were at least starting to subside a bit.

The turtle stared up at his master, his outline glowing against the blazing fire, though it was obvious he had been hurt by the events as well- his armour was marked with soot and his cloak was half burned off. His stance was lacking the usual power he held, and it was painful to see- it was his own fault that this happened, that his master was hurt. Beyond that was the lab, the place he thought they would finally be staying, and here it was, burning along with whatever was left inside.

He bowed lower to the ground, pressing his forehead to the gravel. If only he had been more efficient, then this never would've happened, and they wouldn't need to be moving again.

"Bad things only happen to those bold enough to do good," Draxum murmured to himself, breaking through the silence.

"Go," He finally instructed the turtle. "The fire should be minimal enough to extract things now, go and salvage all you can, then you will bring it to my base near the port, do you understand?"

The turtle nodded, waiting until he heard the Baron's steps reside before daring to step up again.

He ignored the way his knees seemed to go numb at the thought of more work and forced himself forward. His Mastered needed him, so he would deliver- it was what he lived for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not great at writing serious things, and I completely suck when it comes to action, so if you see anything I could improve on, or if you feel like I’m avoiding action scenes, please tell me- I really want to get better, and I won’t be offended at all (lmao as long as you’re not just bashing the story for no reason)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!! <3


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